


Where do you run

by Lacerta



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Deaf Clint Barton, Getting Together, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:07:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25259695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta/pseuds/Lacerta
Summary: Bucky feels queasy spying, but he wants to know and, despite the unease, takes a silent step to his right to get a better view of Clint's hands. He's not an expert, he might be getting some words wrong but his best guess...'—I have you I don't know what to do without you'He can't see what Natasha signs back. Compared to Clint’s wide gestures of a man clearly used to this kind of communication, Nat's signing seems to be sharp and precise, though quick. Hawkeye hums when he replies to whatever she said:'I know I know but with the nightmares I don't have anyone else to turn to'Bucky doesn't need to eavesdrop anymore. He knows now that Clint doesn't trust him. Silently as always, he turns on the heel and leaves, unnoticed.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 20
Kudos: 163





	Where do you run

**Author's Note:**

> I heard a song "Where do you run?" by The Score in the morning. I had a great idea for some fluff. In the evening, I decided I liked it more as angst. When I started writing, I asked myself: why not have both?
> 
> Many, many thanks to my beta-reader, veryrachael! <3
> 
> Enjoy!

There's something shitty about eavesdropping on a deaf guy, if you can call watching him sign eavesdropping.

See, Bucky can't help but overhear conversations between people who are unaware of his presence. He's been trained as a spy, he moves silently even when he's not consciously thinking about it, and his sniper skills mean that he can remain perfectly still in one position for a very long time, avoiding detection. Not sleeping well helps with that, too; people don't expect anyone to lurk in the dark at ungodly hours of the night. Most of the time Bucky's eavesdropping isn't intentional; for a group of spies and secret agents Avengers aren't very discrete.

It would probably be easier on Bucky's conscience if this time, too, he only saw the exchange by accident. No, this time it's fully intentional.

It's way past midnight but the shadows haven't lifted yet; it's too late to call it the middle of the night, but too early to call it dawn. Bucky couldn't sleep and on his third trip across the compound (sometimes it calms him down enough to get a couple of hours sleep) he's found Nat and Clint in the kitchen. At first he wants to step inside from the deep shadow of the corridor, make his presence known, but then he takes in the scene.

Clint's sitting on the counter, curled in tight on himself, and when he reaches for the cup of coffee Natasha offers him, his hand is trembling. Nat has her back to the door, a rare occurrence even inside the compound where omnipresent JARVIS is in charge of the defenses. There aren't many things she'd consider important enough to reign in her instincts for, so it doesn't take much to connect the dots. Clint's awake despite the hour, he's distressed, and the coffee indicates he's not heading back to bed anytime soon. Nightmares, then.

Bucky's sympathetic; he has his own share of bad dreams that keep him awake, and no one knows that as well as Clint, not even Steve. In the few months since Bucky's arrival at the compound he's bonded with Hawkeye over bad jokes, sharpshooting competitions and occasional sparring sessions when Bucky's nightmares kept him on edge, which happened more often than he'd like. The first few nights when Clint found him in the gym, taking his anger out on Steve's punching bags, their encounters were nothing more than quick-paced, dirty fights.

He remembers well the first time they sparred. He noticed Hawkeye as soon as the man entered the gym, and he expected him to try and start a conversation that Bucky wasn't in the mood for. Clint surprised him. Hawkeye taped his fingers, took off his shoes and, without a word, took a fighting stance. His expectant eyes didn't leave Bucky's face until he relented and steadied the punching bag. He entered the fight with a smirk, thinking Clint- an unenhanced human- would be an easy opponent. But the man fought dirty, unpredictably, and was quick on his feet. It was obvious he was trained well, but his moves lacked any formal design Bucky could recognise. In the end, Bucky won, to nobody's surprise- he had to pull back his punches the whole time and he didn't get tired as quickly. But the win wasn't as easy as expected, and with each next fight Bucky's respect for the man only grew.

It became a pattern, one that Bucky started to look forward to. Whenever he woke up from a nightmare, he headed to the gym, hoping that Hawkeye would join him again. He appreciated Clint's presence, but it took him a few sparring sessions to exchange any words. Their talks only started after that one fight that left them both lying on the padded floor gasping for air. Bucky doesn't remember the joke Clint cracked, but he remembers how Bucky's own laughter took him by surprise, and how damn freeing it felt.

From that point their sparring sessions evolved into something Bucky, first tentatively, now with conviction, called a friendship. They shared stories, laughed at bad TV shows they binge watched to chase the nightmares away; they trusted each other. Bucky knew that he could count on Clint, and that he could knock at his door anytime he needed company, no matter the hour. While Clint never took Bucky up on the same offer, he made it clear that he knew that he could, and that he trusted Bucky to be there for him.

Bucky, again, considers stepping into the kitchen and maybe dragging Clint to the common room where they could put on the Dog Patrol and forget the nightmares for a while. Before he makes up his mind, however, Clint sets the now empty mug down on the counter and starts signing.

Bucky's been learning sign language for Clint in secret for the last few weeks; he's not fluent but he understands more than he can sign himself. He wanted to surprise Clint with what he's learned; not like this, though. He feels queasy spying, but he wants to know and, despite the unease, takes a silent step to his right to get a better view of Clint's hands. He's not an expert, he might be getting some words wrong but his best guess...

'—I have you I don't know what to do without you'

He can't see what Natasha signs back. Compared to Clint’s wide gestures of a man clearly used to this kind of communication, Nat's signing seems to be sharp and precise, though quick. Hawkeye hums when he replies to whatever she said:

'I know I know but with the nightmares I don't have anyone else to turn to'

Clint slumps against the wall behind him. It's easy to see how lost and shaken he feels, and a part of Bucky wants to give him a hug. The other half notes Clint's words, the same sentiment repeated once again:

'who else could I talk to like this? I wish-'

Bucky doesn't need to eavesdrop anymore. He knows all he needs to know. Silently as always, he turns on the heel and leaves, unnoticed.

***

Bucky withdraws to himself. And sure, it's not immediately visible; Bucky's presence in the compound isn't the most vibrant. It took him weeks to start interacting with other humans, and even now he doesn’t trust himself to be the cocksure Bucky Barnes he used to be before the war. Before anyone noticed, Bucky's had a few days to sort out his thoughts.

He knows now that Clint doesn't trust him. And who's Bucky to blame him? Bucky doesn't even trust himself, most days, and definitely not right after he's had a nightmare. It still hurts in a way Bucky didn't expect. So he's overestimated someone's intentions towards him, big deal, this shit happens all the time, and the Bucky from Brooklyn could shake the rejection off without breaking a sweat.

Apparently, the Winter Soldier can't. He picks apart the memories he's made since he moved into the compound, one by one. In hindsight he can see how painfully obvious it is. He should've realised much sooner that he was a target of an elaborate con, courtesy of SHIELD.

It's easy enough to pick on Bucky's patterns. After a nightmare, he goes to the gym, punches out his anxiety. There's nothing easier than planting an agent, someone he already knows, someone close to Steve– at that exact time when Bucky's most vulnerable. The nightmares he's having would leave anyone shaken, and it's not like you can get used to that kind of torture his damaged brain is serving him. Strike when the target is exposed, textbook tactics.

And then, Clint's perfect act. If SHIELD wanted to monitor him, they could request frequent checkups, reports and gods know what else, and Steve would happily provide. Alas, they want more. To trick Bucky into trusting them. To get close to him, manipulate him, guide his recovery in a way that suits them. To control the Winter Soldier. And Bucky, still naive despite his age and experience, fell for it. He wanted so hard to find someone who'd understand him that he missed the obvious. He hates that he has to give it to Clint, but the man's a professional spy, and the role he played was flawless. Well, maybe a bit _too_ flawless, but in the end, it worked, didn't it?

When Bucky needed a friend, they gave him one. Clint was happy to spar whenever Bucky's restless, to spend a whole night binge watching reruns of dumb old shows when Bucky doesn't want to fall asleep, to talk seriously on the rare occasion when Bucky feels like sharing. But, Bucky notes, they never talk about Clint's own problems, unless they serve to show just how similar their experiences are and why Clint can understand him so well.

It makes Bucky angry, now, to think about it. How much of what Clint has told him is a lie? Or rather: is any of it true? Why had Bucky trusted him, in the first place? Barton's a goddamn SHIELD agent. Of course all Bucky got was a lie.

***

When Steve finally realises that Bucky's been quieter than usual, misleading him is child's play.

"Have you..." Steve can be painfully awkward sometimes, and talking about Bucky's time in HYDRA's hands never fails to make him so. "Have you remembered something?"

"More like realised something," Bucky answers enigmatically, but Steve filled in the blanks with whatever he assumed.

Bucky doesn't know if he's happy to have Steve off his case, or disappointed that even though Steve's known him since forever, it's Clint who saw right through Bucky's evasions.

***

It's not a huge surprise that he hasn't had a single nightmare since that night he spied on Nat and Barton's conversation; mostly because he hasn't slept since.

The serum keeps him going even when he's not kind on his body, but there's a limit to what it can do. When Bucky inevitably falls asleep, he doesn't get even a couple of hours rest. He wakes up drenched in sweat, and his throat hurts; he must've been screaming. Each bedroom in the compound is sound-proof, so Steve can't hear him from the adjacent room, thank fuck, the last thing Bucky needs is a hovering Steve Rogers every time he has a bad dream.

Bucky moves on autopilot, and by the time he realises he defaults to heading to the gym, he's already dressed and sneaking out of his room. He crosses his and Steve's common area and heads out to the corridor, but he doesn't take the turn that leads to the gym. Instead, he climbs the ladder to the roof.

He lies down and stares at the sky. It only half works to calm him down. The air is chilling, so he's not sweating anymore at least, but the compound is dark. The security systems work on infrared, he knows that, plus Stark's paranoid when it comes to their security. He knows he can trust him with that. And yet, with his trust betrayed in another matter, Bucky stares in the darkness and feels a growing unease as he struggles to make out the outline of the forest.

Some time later, he hears someone climb the metal ladder. He doesn't wait to see who's heading his way, he can make a pretty good guess.

By the time Clint opens the hatch and steps on the roof, Bucky is long gone.

***

Steve calls him cranky in the morning. If Bucky was to describe how he feels, he'd use some stronger words. He was cranky before, the nightmares dialed up the shitty mood to the highest setting. He's tired, twitchy, and he feels betrayed, but he does his best not to show it in front of Steve. A part of him wants Steve to notice, to care, but the part that wants to suffer in peace wins this round. Steve's a good friend, but his mother henning gets overwhelming quickly.

The problem is, Bucky can't find anything to occupy his mind with. His eyes hurt when he tries to focus on a book, unlike Steve he's never been a fan of handicraft, and both working out in the gym and watching dumb TV has lost its shine now that it's inextricably linked to Barton. Bucky spends most of his time staring at the ceiling with his brain torturing him with unwanted memories, which is probably not the best for his mental state, but it's better than some of the alternatives. In the afternoon he takes rounds and checks the compound's security, grasping for anything to keep himself busy. It's not at all related to the worried frown Steve gave him when he returned to their living area. (Bucky's always hated how sensitive he was to Steve's quiet sulking.)

He's busy planning how to avoid Steve on his way back to his room so he doesn't realise he's about to cross paths with someone he wants to see even less.

Bucky swallows down a curse. It's Clint, of course it's Clint. Bucky once thought that the reason the man knew exactly where to find him was Barton's attunement to Bucky's moods and habits, but now he realises it's the calculated strategy of an agent moving in on his mark. This knowledge makes Barton's seemingly concerned face all the more unbearable.

"Bucky? Steve tells me you're having a bad day, what–?"

Bucky feels panic rise in his chest, chilling his insides and freezing his lungs. He knows the anxiety must show on his face, but it's too much to contain. He trusts Steve with his life, his best friend is the only person Bucky's absolutely certain is on his side no matter what. But who knows how much intel on the Winter Soldier Steve, still so innocent, still so naive, too trusting Steve unknowingly shares with SHIELD. Bucky tried to distance himself from the spies, but if that's the case, how can he feel safe here anymore, despite Steve's unwavering presence?

It's unfair, he thinks, that they ripped away even that last outpost of Bucky's peace.

"Buck? Buck, what's wrong? Talk to me."

He grits his teeth hearing Barton use the nickname. He's done with this fake friendliness, with all the pretty lies he's been fed for his own good. He's done with it all.

"Fuck off," he says sincerly and turns on his heel. He ignores Barton calling after him, confused. He heads outside, makes sure he's not being followed. The man might know him scarily well, but Bucky still has a few hideouts he's kept to himself.

***

"I should leave."

Bucky's words give Steve a pause but after a short moment he returns to stirring the eggs.

"Don't be stupid, Buck," he chides lightly. It doesn't sound like he's taking it seriously. "You're doing so well here. I know it's a process, it doesn't magically get better overnight, no matter how much I wish it was easier for you..." he trails away, but shakes his head and carries on, "But you're making progress, Buck, and you're even making friends with–"

There's a loud crack and when Steve turns back to him, startled, Bucky realises that it's come from a mug he's been holding in his left hand. The handle is crushed into pieces, and thank goodness that he kept the mug on the table, so at least his coffee survived. Still, he frowns in frustration; it's been a while since he lost control over his strength. He shouldn't lose it over someone he doesn't care for anymore.

"I thought you liked it here." Steve's voice is unnaturally small, uncertain, and it looks like for the first time he might be registering that Bucky's not in a joking mood.

Bucky sighs and forcefully relaxes his shoulders. It's not Steve he's angry with. There's no use taking it out on him.

"I thought so, too."

"Not anymore?"

"No," Bucky sends his best friend a tired smile. "I'm sorry, I know you were excited to bring me here. It's just... Not working for me, Stevie."

They're both quiet for a long, somber moment, until the eggs start to sizzle loudly, and Steve breaks the silence with a muttered curse. He returns to stirring the eggs in hopes they can still be saved, but when he speaks up again he glances back at Bucky. "Don't apologise, it was never about what I needed. I hoped you'd be happy here and if you're not..." He huffs. "I'm gonna miss you, Buck, sure, but I don't ever want to see you miserable because of me."

In all honesty, Bucky's prepared for more resistance, though he realises he really needn't have. If there is anyone who could understand him, it's Steve.

"I'm gonna miss your sorry mug too, Stevie," he says, and knows that Steve can read the thank-you hidden behind the bickering.

"We could ask Tony to find you a safe house, I'm sure he–"

"No," Bucky interrupts quickly. "No, I can find a place on my own, there's no need to bother Stark. I already have something in mind."

Truth is, he has a safe house, one he secured when he was on the run from SHIELD. He hasn't used it and he's fairly sure SHIELD doesn't know about it, at least for the time being. Not having thought about it for a while, Bucky has never had the opportunity to tell Steve about it, which now makes it all the more secure.

Steve hums but keeps quiet, serving the eggs onto the plates. The meal is simple, one of the few Steve mastered, but the large pan is enough for a light breakfast for two supersoldiers.

"I'm not gonna stop you, Buck, if that's what you want. But I'd be really happy if you let me drive you there. I could help with unpacking, too?" he offers, setting the plates on the table. Bucky smiles. He doesn't need help with the move, he doesn't own too many things, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't appreciate his best friend's support.

"Sure, Stevie," he agrees with no hesitation. "I'm thinking this evening?"

***

The evening doesn't work out in the end. Steve gets a call from Fury and gets stuck dealing with bureaucracy.

It's fine with Bucky. They'll go in the morning, it doesn't make that big of a difference. For the first time in days he feels calm. In control. He knows what he wants and he's about to get there. So what if he still can't sleep? He can occupy his time until the morning, and once he's finally in the safe house... Well. He's sure he'll find a way to cope.

He watches the sunset from the roof and tries to commit the view to memory. It's beautiful. He first saw it in Steve's sketchbook, and then Steve took him onto the roof on Bucky's first day in the compound. The sky burning over the forest is an overwhelming sight, one that drowns out Bucky's anxious thoughts. When the dark falls, Bucky, invisible in the shadows, feels a little safer.

He intends to head straight back to his room, but if it’s his last night here, he might as well prowl the corridors one last time. He surely won't miss the cold, modern architecture, but on some level it still feels... proper, if awfully sentimental.

Bucky freezes mid-step when he passes the kitchen and, in an ironic twist of fate, he sees almost the same scene to the one that's changed everything. Natasha is once more making a single cup of coffee, Barton is, again, curled on the countertop. He looks ridiculous, he's too tall to fit comfortably under the cupboards hanging on the wall but it doesn't seem to dissuade him from claiming the spot.

"Contrary to what your bird brain is telling you, you need sleep," Natasha says, passing the mug to Clint, who accepts it gratefully even if the frown doesn't leave his face.

"Can't."

Even from the corridor Bucky can hear Widow's heavy sigh as she pulls a chair and sits on it backwards, facing Barton. Bucky can't see her face, and her body language is subtle, but a resigned slump of her shoulders– barely visible but still there if you know where to look for, and the Soldier knows– suggests that it's far from the first conversation they're having on the matter. He briefly wonders what's different tonight that they're talking aloud instead of signing but dismisses the thought; it's probably convenience.

"Do I need to kick Barnes' ass?" she asks, and isn't that a twist that Bucky hasn't expected. What the hell is this about? Was Clint tasked to keep watch on the Winter Soldier now that he can't get close to his mark anymore? Is Nat hoping to incapacitate Bucky to relieve him of this duty? But if that's the case, what are they both doing in the kitchen instead of following Bucky around?

"What? Don't be an idiot, Tasha," Barton's quick to reply. He straightens up in a defensive reflex and hits his head on the cupboard. Hawkeye hisses and rubs his temple. "What does he have to do with the mess in my brain?"

"There's only one idiot in this room, and that's decisively not me, _durak_. I'm not the one in denial. It's been what, a week? You're acting like you're cold turkey."

"Eight days," Clint whines miserably, hugging his knees and curling even more into himself. "And I'm not addicted to him, come on. It's just... I don't know what happened? One day we were good, on the next he's avoiding me like the plague?"

"He's avoiding everyone," Natasha observes, and Bucky silently agrees with both of them. He's been keeping away from everyone except for Steve, but _especially_ from Barton.

"But he's avoiding me purposefully, Nat!" Hawkeye gestures widely with the hand holding the coffee. He does that a lot, Bucky knows, but he never loses a drop of his drink. That, at least, is something he couldn't have faked, Bucky notes bitterly. "I looked for him in our usual spots but– Wait, that doesn't have anything to do with my nightmares! Stop pulling this weird therapeutic shit on me!"

"The one called 'listening to you when you ramble'?"

"Exactly!" he agrees immediately. "Wait. No. Ugh, stop it, I can't deal with your mind tricks on no sleep! Be ashamed, Nat, beguiling an insomniac is low, even for you!"

"Then go. Sleep."

"I can't! That's the problem here!"

They're quiet for a longer while, but Bucky's a sniper, he can outwait the best of them, and he's determined to uncover the meaning of what he sees. Finally, Barton slides off the countertop, finishes his coffee and puts it in the sink. He stays there, leaning on the counter, with his back to the door. Bucky guesses he has his eyes closed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bucky still can't see her face, but Widow's voice is surprisingly gentle. "Do you want to sign it out? I know it's easier to share in ASL."

Clint shakes his head harder. "No. I've talked enough, and that can only help so much."

"Do you want to spar, then?"

"Nah. That wouldn't be the same. It's not that I'm not grateful you're here for me, Nat, but–"

"But you've always felt more satisfied with a fight that leaves you with bruises, and that's something your Soldier is more likely to give you? Also, more importantly, you'd sleep better if you knew he was fine, wouldn't you?" Natasha sighs. "If you want me to beat some sense into Barnes, my offer still stands."

Clint turns to her with a lopsided smile. "I can fool myself but I can't fool you, eh?" His eyes sweep across the room and that's when he notices. "Bucky?"

Clint sounds as confused as Bucky feels. They must look alike, as well, because Bucky's heart mimics the vulnerability, anxiety and irrational hope that he can see on Clint's face. In response to this internal turmoil, Bucky does the only thing that seems to make sense. He turns around and walks away.

He doesn't get far before Clint runs after him. "Bucky!" He grabs the Soldier's arm and... Bucky stops. He's startled; he fully expected the instinct to take over, twist the offending hand in a painful way that's sure to loosen its grip. Sometimes when Steve touches him when Bucky's not expecting it, he lashes out at him, too. Apparently, not at Clint.

He doesn't know what to feel. He's been angry for so long that now that it's taken away from him, he feels a void that he doesn't know what to fill with. Traitorous hope flickers in and out. He doesn't want to get burnt, not again. But maybe, just maybe, Bucky got it all wrong. What if? Maybe there's an explanation he hasn't considered.

Bucky slowly turns to Clint and removes his arm from the man's hold. He'll need the free range of movement.

"Why the fuck didn't you talk to me?" he says, and he signs. His gestures are stiff, unpracticed, but he's mostly sure he got it right. Judging by Clint's look of wonder, if he made any mistakes, it doesn't even matter.

"Buck," he whispers, and when he speaks, he signs, too. He might as well be unaware he's doing this with how natural he makes it look. "I would talk to you about anything, you know that. Anything. What do you mean?"

"You never talk about yourself." Bucky's forgotten the sign for 'never', but a sign for 'not' works well enough in the context.

Clint's visibly taken aback. "I do," he counters. "I told you about Loki, I told you about..." He sends a cautious glance around them and signs something that takes Bucky a moment to decode. The circus.

He feels shitty, because of course Clint did. Sure, he didn't talk about it often, but he told Bucky about Loki's mind control, he told him how he lost his hearing. He's shared more than Bucky gave him credit for, anger and betrayal hiding the truth from him. Now, he squeezes his eyes shut and wishes to go back in time, just a few minutes, to the moment before he said this stupid thing. He needs a moment to assess if all his suspicions are as irrational as this one, but he doesn't have a moment.

"But," he swallows, "it can't be real. You're too perfect."

Clint snorts, and Bucky's first thought is to be offended. He's too ashamed, though. He warily opens one eye.

"Aw, Bucky, you're making me blush," Clint says, amusement clear both in his voice and on his face, before he gets serious. "I'm not perfect, Buck, I fuck up. Like right now, I've fucked up, I don't know how. Tell me how I can fix it."

How are you not perfect?!, thinks Bucky, but that would reveal too much, so he keeps this line to himself. He closes his eyes again, sighs and then looks Clint in the eyes. The man never gave him any reasons to doubt him, except that one time he wasn't even supposed to be around. He takes the risk and explains.

"You told me you know that you can come to me whenever you have nightmares."

"That's true. Both that I said that and that I know that." Clint nods.

"I saw you and Nat." He winces, remembering that he overstepped a lot of boundaries eavesdropping on them. "I saw you say to her that you have no one else to talk to about them. And we never do. Is that because you don't trust me?"

"What?!" At first Bucky is sure that it's Clint's reaction to him spying on his private conversations with Widow, and he readies for the backlash. "Why wouldn't I trust you? You're my friend! I'm not saying 'best friend' 'cause Nat's listening in and she might hurt me. Or you, if she thinks you took her place." Natasha laughs from the kitchen, not ashamed to be caught in the act. Clint smiles, but then swallows. "I trust you with my life, Bucky. It's just easier if I don't talk about them out loud, you know? If I sign, the memories aren't as... as vivid?"

Oh. That makes sense. That makes a lot of sense, and Bucky feels bad for not thinking about it himself. He had all the clues before his eyes, even a minute ago he was wondering why they signed to each other that last time. Ugh. 'Bad' doesn't cover how he feels.

"And I didn't know you were learning to sign! Oh my god, Bucky, that's amazing!" Clint's obviously excited, he even reaches out and squeezes Bucky's arm, unable to contain himself. Bucky gives him a small smile.

"I just wanted to be able to help you." He doesn't explain whether he means learning ASL or being there for Clint when he has nightmares. He means both.

"What, but you do." Clint shakes his head. "Wait, did you think that I didn't get anything from our sparring sessions?"

"Uh." How does he explain that he suspected Clint of spying on him when he's most vulnerable without sounding paranoid?

"That first time I found you in the gym I had one of the bad nights, I wasn't thinking straight and decided challenging the Winter Soldier was a good idea. I never thanked you for taking it easy on me, did I?"

"Not as easy as I had assumed," Bucky adds truthfully, and immediately wants to slap himself. That might be true but he doesn't want to sound like he'd looked down on him.

"Yeah? Really? It means a lot coming from you."

Leave it to Clint to react in the least expected way. Bucky stares at Hawkeye's honest, delighted face. Nothing makes sense. It rarely does with Clint, but at the same time it makes all the sense it needs. Bucky still feels awkward about his absurd suspicions, and yet he can't help but smile back at his friend.

"Soooo," Clint tilts his head. "Are we good?"

It's as simple as that, and Bucky couldn't be more grateful. Being with Clint is... easy. Bucky fucked up but they can get past all that. Before he can find reasons why he shouldn't do it, he takes a step, closes the space between them and pulls Clint into a tight hug. The man gives in easily, leaning his chin on Bucky's shoulder. They stay like that for a while, neither of them wanting to let go, and after a moment Bucky closes his eyes.

"I'm glad I didn't need to kick your ass, Barnes." Bucky snorts at Widow's teasing, but doesn't bother to look at her. He's good as he is. This kind of peace he feels is way better than what he felt when he decided to leave the compound. He wants to burn this into his memory. He's startled when Natasha whispers into his ear, "But if you keep hurting him, I still might."

"Oh my god, Nat! I can take care of myself!"

Hearing Clint's indignant cry, Bucky and Natasha huff in disbelief at the same time. This time Bucky opens his eyes to exchange knowing looks with her.

"Outrageous," Clint mutters. "Now I'm outnumbered, thanks, assholes." Still, he doesn't let go.

***

They don't sleep the whole night. This time, the nightmares aren't the reason.

After their moment in the corridor, Bucky drags Clint to the common room he shares with Steve. They have a huge screen and a couch that easily fits two supersoldiers if they ever fell asleep there at the same time. They don't take advantage of all this space; at first they sit next to each other, but before Elsa can even discover her freezing powers, they move into a more comfortable position: Bucky leans on the comfy armrest and Clint sprawls on the pillows with his head on Bucky's lap. It's how they usually end up during their nightly movie marathons.

They watch Disney, then some action movie that's unrealistic but Clint enjoys the explosions anyway, and when Bucky's tired of rolling his eyes on the characters' antics, he glances down on Clint's excited face and smiles. Then Clint mentions that the movie series is a continuation of a TV show from the 60s, and they ask JARVIS to put it on. It's ridiculous but more Bucky's speed.

It must be around dawn when Bucky mutes the TV after the episode ends. Clint's been dozing off in his lap for the last quarter, and Bucky himself is considering taking a nap on the couch as well. He looks down at Clint's hearing aids and wonders if he should take them out, or if it would make Clint uncomfortable to know someone touched his ears. (He's told Bucky he doesn't like it. He's told Bucky a lot of things, and Bucky remembers that now.) Undecided and emboldened by the lack of sleep, he lays his hand on Clint's hair. It’s short and rough to touch. Bucky tests how it feels under his fingers when he moves his hand.

"Bucky?"

Was it Clint's voice, Bucky wouldn't be surprised, but Steve takes him off guard. Of course, he's an early riser.

"I'm sorry I got caught up in the meetings yesterday. Let me take a shower and we can leave whenever you..." Steve trails away as he gets closer to Bucky. From the door to his room he couldn't see Clint, but now his eyes fall on snoozing Clint and on Bucky's head in his hair. Bucky wonders if he would feel self-conscious if he wasn't so sleep-deprived. "Ah. I take it that you've had a change of heart?" Steve's quick to connect the dots. He's beaming hopefully and Bucky sends him a confirming smile.

"You know it."

Steve tiptoes to his room, fetches them a blanket and with a last wide smile at Bucky leaves them alone.

Clint stirs when Bucky drapes the blanket over the both of them. "You 'ere leaving?" he mumbles, trying to blink his eyes open, but Bucky scratches his scalp and hushes him gently.

"That was back when I was stupid."

Clint stirs a bit more and relaxes in the new position. "You're always stupid, 'ucky."

Bucky smiles and closes his eyes. He can feel the sleep coming, and he has a feeling the nightmares will keep away this time.

Stupid? For Clint, he might just be.


End file.
